


I've Been Licking Your Wounds

by Niki



Series: Vampire AU [2]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Community: hc_bingo, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niki/pseuds/Niki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robbie goes missing and James needs all his new skills to find him. Vampire AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Been Licking Your Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> For hc_bingo prompt "disappearing" and trope_bingo prompt au: supernatural/vampire
> 
> Rushed and unbetaed, because I was trying to make the deadline. Sorry.

Robbie often asks James what he finds to do with the nights he spends at his place, when the older man sleeps.

James usually says something vague about reading or even the telly, because Robbie wouldn't appreciate the real answer. At worst he might find it creepy, at best think it extremely boring. But to James, watching him sleep is infinitely interesting. 

There's something fragile about humans in sleep, something so unprotected, and he feels like he should stand guard over his sleeping lover. There is mystery, too, because his unmoving body doesn't give any clues to the dreams playing in his mind, from the worst nightmares to the most pleasant memories. 

There is the steady beat of his heart and constant coursing of his blood to concentrate on, the warmth to soak in, even the snoring, on occasion, to keep him company. 

He doesn't prefer the sleeping Robbie to the awakened, no, but he doesn't find him any less fascinating when his eyes are closed and his mind inaccessible.

And Robbie, as he says, being old, doesn't need as much sleep as when younger, or at least is unable to get as much, so he's seldom alone for longer than six hours. He likes being there when Robbie wakes up, too, to catch all those little signs of a body going through the minor but miraculous transformations that occur between the two states. 

He likes listening to Robbie, whether speaking or just the natural rhythms of his body, because it proves to all of his senses that the other man is there, alive, well, and his. 

“Have you been here all night?” Robbie asks, yawning.

“The sofa was lonely,” James says, putting away the book he picked up when he noticed the change in Robbie's breathing that heralded his awakening. 

Robbie smiles, indulgently, and gets up to pad to the bathroom. 

James gets up as well, and goes to prepare the coffee. It's all routine, coffee, cups, sugar, blood. He convinced Robbie that he wouldn't be able to drink his blood if he ever lost him, so the stash Laura Hobson had been reluctantly collecting has been put to use. At least for as long as it lasts, it means Robbie is not bleeding every day. 

They eat their breakfast in silence, with only the clink of the cups and cutlery and the newspaper's rustle filling the air. It occasionally overwhelms James, the sense of familiarity, the companionship, the feel of family in those moments. To be a part of routines, expected, known. 

Robbie catches him smiling at him, and raises his eyebrow enquiringly. He just shakes his head, smiling wider, and the softening in the older man's eyes seems to say he understands.

\- - -

They go to work early, no reason to linger home when there's a murderer to catch. They are in the middle of trying to make sense of the convoluted relationships around their body, a middle-aged business man found naked and bound in the middle of a field.

Sometimes James feels guilty for not working through the night, but Robbie insists he takes the nights off the same as everyone else. It does seem to rejuvenate him, allow him to think clearer the next day, but James isn't sure if it's the rest, making himself think of something completely different for a few hours, or the fact he works better when Robbie is around, when they can bounce ideas off each other.

This case, though, has just so much background information to sort through to even find out who the man was, who the people in his life were, to even find out what the questions they should be asking are, that he feels he should just keep sorting through the files and interviews to even get to the point where they have ideas to bounce.

“You keep working on these,” Robbie says at some point. “I'll go visit the wife again with this new batch of names.”

“I could come with you.”

“Yeah, and it might be more pleasant that way, but there is just too much work here.”

“I know. See you soon, sir.”

He calls Robbie 'sir' at work, even when they are alone so that he doesn't slip when they are not alone. It's easy, too, a habit of so many years it's more surprising he doesn't slip up at home.

\- - -

Robbie is late. An hour is acceptable, the widow might have a lot to say. Two hours, if the traffic was bad. But three is worrying, and James tries his mobile once more. No answer. He calls the widow only to hear Robbie left almost two hours ago.

He follows protocol and informs Innocent. Then he follows his instincts and jumps into a car. He knows which route Robbie would have taken, they have visited the widow twice already. If he had decided to follow a lead, he would have informed James. 

The road passes the field where the body was discovered. When James recognises the car Robbie was using, abandoned by the road, he feels like his heart stops beating. Which is peculiar, because his heart hasn't beaten for months now.

He has a presence of mind to put on gloves before approaching the vehicle. A part of him is convinced he's going to find a body, either in the car or out in the field, and that part is panicking. Not Robbie, no. No. No. He should have transformed him, should have gone with him, should have been there to protect him, it's his fault...

The car is empty. He can't see or hear or smell anything out in the field. He calls Innocent, as he should have the moment he spotted the car. 

“I'll send SOCO,” she says, and finally there is a trace of worry in her voice.

Doctor Hobson arrives with the team, and she looks at him with compassion. She has been softening towards him ever since she saw how cut up he was after Robbie's... accident, possibly even realised he had saved his life. 

“Anything?” she asks, quietly, obviously referring to his 'other' skill set.

“I haven't checked the insides of the car yet, had to wait for SOCO to do this properly,” he says.

She looks surprised. Maybe she hadn't expected him to keep his head.

“Well, let's go.”

The car is locked, but is easily picked open by a technician in a scene suit. The moment the door opens James can smell the blood. He must let out a sound, because Hobson looks at him warningly. There are too many other people around. 

“Blood marks,” the first technician says. 

“It's his,” James whispers. 

“Well, you might as well let me test it,” Hobson says, loud. “To make sure it's his.”

The technician gives them room, and she nods to Hathaway to follow. 

“There's not enough for it to be dangerous on its own,” she says. “And I can't actually officially confirm it's his on the spot, obviously. I can just match the blood group. But I figured you might need a moment to... go through the scene.”

“Thanks. I could try to see if there is a blood trail but... how the hell do I explain what I'm doing?” he asks, desperately, wanting to not care but knowing he has to.

“Mask it,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Meander, take out your phone and pretend to move away to talk in peace.”

She doesn't sound irritated that he didn't come up with that on his own. She sounds... kind.

“Thank you,” he whispers and she rests her hand on his arm for a moment. 

“Just... find him.”

He takes out his phone, too panicked to trust his acting skills in aimless meandering without it, and dials Robbie's number again. He walks a little to both directions from the car, seemingly aimlessly, taking deep breaths with his eyes shut. 

There. That's Robbie's blood. He follows the scent to a tiny drop on a ground, invisible to human eye, and rushes forward to find the next. And a next. There's not much blood, but the trail is even. Was Robbie marking the way for him? 

Then, by a dirt road dissecting the main road there is a bigger mark, like someone fell and spread blood on the ground with a hand. There's enough blood to make him feel dizzy, but not with hunger. Robbie's blood. There are tire tracks. 

“Here!” he yells to the team. “There's more blood!”

\- - -

The tracks are traceable, the tires worn in a distinct shape. While the uniforms scour the neighbouring properties looking for eyewitnesses, James returns to the station to help find the car, to go through their notes, wondering if Robbie's disappearance is connected to their case.

He phones the widow again, asking what she told Robbie, knowing he should visit her instead, but unable to leave the station in case there is a breakthrough.

Laura shows up to go through their notes with him, and James keeps hoping Innocent doesn't ask her what she thinks she's doing. James is afraid the answer might be, keeping an eye on the potentially crazy vampire. 

But her presence helps, a steady heartbeat he knows and trusts, and what a time to realise they are friends these days, united by shared care of the missing man. She even provides him with coffee at one point, and he doesn't even notice she laced it with blood until later, when he realises he should be getting more tired than he is.

One of the uniforms found an eyewitness who provided a description of the car, and at nine in the evening, when Laura has been making noises about going home, there is a breakthrough. 

The car has been discovered, by a block of apartments, and there is a team going to investigate. James is going to be on that team, or he is going alone.

“It was bad enough that I shoehorned in on the SOCO, there is no way I can justify coming along now,” Laura says. “So be careful. Don't let them risk Robbie's safety. But don't risk your own either. If you hear, see or smell something you can't explain, always call it a hunch. Or act rude and don't explain, that worked for Morse. Just... be careful. Okay?”

“Yes. Yes, thank you, Laura.”

“Go save our Robbie, James.”

\- - -

Innocent allows him along on courtesy, but he is supposed to leave the job to others. 

No one expects him to follow those instructions once they are off the station, and the officer in charge just asks him to work with them. He can do that. 

Or he can sneak off on his own, and listen behind every window and every door in case he hears the familiar heartbeat, or sniff through the yard, hoping to catch that familiar scent of blood. He has to believe Robbie is alive, and here. He has to be.

The car is registered to someone whose name has not come up in connection with the case. No one in the resident list seems familiar, either, so they are flying in blind. It's of course quite possible Robbie isn't there even if the car is. He might not even be alive.

But their original corpse had been kept in captivity for an unidentified amount of time before death, and that gives James hope.

The trail of blood he picks up, some way from the car, intensifies that hope. The blood is dried, and again the traces are so small a normal human would miss them. But to James they scream that Robbie was here, he was still alive, and, judging from the placement of the traces on the walls, conscious. Marking his way like a hero in a Greek myth, on the off chance that James might be following the trail. 

He loves that man so much for that ingenuity, that trust, and he will find him even if it's the last thing he ever does outside a research laboratory and a new career as a lab rat.

The traces end at the end of the block. There's a mark by one of the doors that has been wiped clean. Of course, even though there is nothing showing to the naked eye, it doesn't mean all the blood is gone. 

James once read that human nose can sometimes pick up a scent from only one molecule. He doesn't know if that is true, it's not his field, but for his new senses the invisible stain is enough, and he presses his ear against the door to listen.

Men, movement... low discussion of mundane affairs. They are calm. He creeps by the wall to reach a window. Metal hitting a hard surface, faint trace of cordite. A gun. More creeping, a back window, curtains drawn. And then he hears it – the heartbeat he would recognise among a million. There is no other sound in the room. 

He should go get the others. But there is a gun in the apartment. There's no telling what the kidnappers will do if spooked. He risks a light tap on the window, and the heartbeat changes. There's a dull thud, like someone kicked a floor, rattled a chair... He is conscious but he cannot talk. 

He's also alone, or he wouldn't have reacted, and someone would have come to investigate.

Decision made, James picks up a convenient brick and mashes the window. He is inside in seconds, taking in the empty room, Robbie sitting tied to a chair, clothed and gagged, looking at him with a wide eyed expression before turning his head towards the door. 

The door opens, and James is by it before he can even think – he didn't realise he could move so fast, he has never had the proper motivation it seems... and he closes the door in the incomer's face. They shoot through the door, but James has prepared for that, has made sure Robbie is not in the line of fire, and the shots will bring in the backup.

He picks up a dresser to block the door, then kneels down next to Robbie and gently removes the gag.

“Are you out of your mind, lad?” he demands in whisper.

“I'm not alone,” he says, defensively, and snaps open the cable ties holding his hands and feet. 

There's another shot, and something heavy thudding against the door. James can hear the discussion in the other room, three men, only one gun, and damn but one of them realises they can get in through the window. 

He can only hope the others will arrive before that. He can stop a bullet and take down anyone who tries to get in, but it might be hard to explain. And he'd much rather not end his days as a lab rat.

He is dying to pull Robbie close to a hug, but directs him to stand in a corner while he takes position by the window. Anyone coming in will have to come through six feet and three inches of a pissed off vampire.

One of the uniforms stops the man with a gun trying to get to the window, and almost simultaneously there are sounds of the other men being arrested. James moves the dresser from the door, and then, only then does he turn to Robbie, and pull him in for a desperate hug.

\- - -

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Innocent yells, and James is reminded of parents that shout at their children when overcome with relief that they are back home, safe. 

He meets Robbie's eyes but the older man is equally angry with him over the “needless bloody risks” he took. 

“I'm sorry, ma'am. When I saw DI Lewis from the window, I fear my thinking may have been clouded for a moment, and all I could think about was checking whether he was still alive.”

“You do realise your actions could have ensure that he wouldn't remain so for long?” she demands.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Did you at least find out why he was taken?”

“The driver at the Garret mansion heard my discussion with Mrs Garret and decided I was too close. He followed me in a car belonging to his girlfriend, and forced me off the road by the field.”

“That's when he received the hit on his face,” James interjects. The bleeding wound which he used to leave breadcrumbs for his sergeant. 

“Has it been looked at?” Innocent asks, eyes trained on the white bandage on his face.

“Yes, ma'am. No concussion, didn't even need stitches.”

“I should suspend you for this,” Innocent tells James. “You were only allowed to join the team out of _kindness_ and you repaid that by almost messing up the whole operation!”

“With all due respect, ma'am,” Robbie says. “If the team had come through the door the guard by my door was under instructions to kill me.”

James' head whips to the side to stare at the older man intently. He hadn't known that. 

“But if your position was clearly visible through the window, a more _controlled_ approach could have been possible.”

“It's not my job to speculate, ma'am.”

“Oh go home, Robbie. Hathaway.”

“Yes, ma'am?”

“Take him home, make sure he's all right, and the next time... Don't think I am not sympathetic. I understand what a shock it must be to see your governor in such a position. But your closeness to him was exactly the reason you shouldn't have been there in the first place, why you shouldn't even have been a part of this operation. If this had ended badly, our discussion would have been a lot different. No go, before my good will and understanding evaporate.”

\- - -

“What the hell where you thinking?” Robbie demands the moment they are inside his apartment.

“That I could protect you much better without witnesses,” James says, instantly. “I knew there was at least one gun inside.”

“And what if you had been shot?”

“Better me than you, sir.”

“To hell with that sir! What it you had been shot? In front of witnesses? I can't protect you if you go around doing things like that!”

“Forgive me for not giving a damn while you're in danger!”

“I don't want to lose you like that!”

“I don't want to lose you in any way!”

They stare at each other, eyes wide, and then James is pulling him closer for another hug, and Robbie is holding him back with enough strength that it might hurt a human.

“I will not lose you,” James whispers against his ear. “I refuse. Let me transform you. Please.”

“Lad...”

“Please.”

\- - -

The End


End file.
